New Destinies
by Forever Astray
Summary: Raven had destroyed the Storybook of Legends and now everyone could choose their own stories. But they had all thought there would be more choices. As it turned out, fate could be rather strict in its own way. A series of one-shots, f/f pairings. Story 1: Apple White and Darling Charming, Story 2: Ramona and Justine
1. Awakened

Author's Note: In case the summary was unclear, this story is going to be a series of interrelated one-shots that feature rebels being drawn into the fairy tales of various royals that they weren't meant to be a part of, as a consequence of having possession of their own pages. They will also contain mature themes and scenes of a sexual nature.

* * *

Awakened, the Tale of Apple White and Darling Charming  


It had started with a kiss, a kiss that Apple had breezed over when there were more important things to deal with. But once the danger of the Evil Queen was over with, the importance of the kiss grew and grew in her mind. It eventually lead to Apple telling her roommate, "I need you to poison me."

Raven clenched her eyes closed and rubbed a finger on each temple in slow even circles. "Apple. I thought we were done with this. After all that with the storybook– after all that with my mother– you're still keeping this up?"

"No! Not like that. Please, just hear me out." Apple crossed the room and sat beside Raven on her bed. "I don't want you to _poison me_ poison me. I just want– okay, listen. I was poisoned by the Evil Queen, right? Put into forever after sleep. Then I was woken up."

"So why does that mean I should poison you, exactly?"

Apple reached out and clasped her hands over Raven's. As the distance between the two of them had closed, Apple found there was little she liked more than the feel of Raven's hands in her own. Every chance, she took them, and she could never quite figure out what it was that she liked about them. It was probably how soft they were, pale and smooth like the petals of a lily. Raven's frequent magic use preserved the skin of her hands in a way that made even the most delicate princesses jealous. They felt so, so different– better– than the way Daring's felt, the few times she had touched his hands. But of course he wasn't actually her true love, so it finally made sense that they never clicked.

"Don't you see? It's done. My story is done, and now I should be moving into what comes next. Happily ever after." She always said those particular words in a dreamy voice, but it turned shrill as she added, "but no one will tell me whose kiss woke me!"

Raven shrugged, unable to stay frustrated with her. Apple had asked Raven to try and find out who kissed her, to see if her luck would be better, but everyone's lips were sealed shut about the kiss. At this point Raven was just as curious as she was.

Apple had come up with a simple plan: get poisoned again. Then when her true love tries to wake her up, and she knew they would because otherwise they wouldn't be very one-true-love-like, Apple would trap them in her room. She planned to have a long, long talk with them.

It was a little bit villainous for her tastes but this was a matter of her fairy tale destiny, the only thing that she had ever cared about for most of her life. She had been changing for the better; she had started to care about other things, like her good friend Raven's desires to determine her own destiny, but Apple couldn't ignore her happy ending being within reach.

But, after explaining this fully to Raven and arguing for more than an hour, she couldn't get her roommate to agree to her little plan. It was like talking to a brick wall. Apple forgave Raven easily. After all, that act– the culmination of Raven's fairy tale destiny– was precisely what the girl had been fighting against. For evil or for the sake of love, an act of betrayal or an act of favor, it didn't matter. Raven would never agree to do it and Apple had been learning to respect that.

The old Apple may have wanted to whine, or to cry, but new Apple couldn't do that to Raven anymore. The most she could do, and it took a lot of convincing, was to get Raven to stay in Maddie's room for the night and provide a spell that only allowed one way entrance to their room until the clock struck midnight.

Which left Apple to figure out how to put herself to sleep. Well, Raven _did_ always tell her she needed to make her own destiny. Now she would. She aced chemythstry and, though she got a D, had taken home evilnomics. It wasn't as detailed a course as poison fruit theory, but they had covered the practical aspects. Apple White didn't have the magic to make a proper forever-after-sleep poison apple, but she could whip up something that would put herself under for a few hours.

Apple White spent the next hour in the student kitchen. It was a kitchen that really belonged in a restaurant; there were rows of magical burners and a large industrial grill on one side, and a wall covered in double ovens on the other. Despite the hardware these kitchens were just for students who wanted to make their own meals, and they generally fell to disuse outside of the occasional baking competition. At first Ginger, the only person who usually used them, was there with her. Apple started simple: preparing batter, peeling apples, putting ingredients in little bowls. Apple stopped once everything was ready and started to pretend to double check her recipe, until Ginger wandered off with the tray of sweets she had been baking.

The moment she was alone Apple prepared the most dangerous, most secretive part of the whole thing– the poison. Apple carefully measured out ingredients from the far back of the pantry, where the shelves were coated with signs and labels covered in skull and crossbones and big red circles with lines through them. Nothing pleasant, but, once they were all mixed properly the odor faded as it should. Couldn't have the victim smelling it.

She had just finished the poison and beat it into the mixture of eggs and butter when the door cracked again. Apple threw a towel over the bowl, hoping to keep the pale green tint a secret, and turned.

"Ginger told me I might find you here."

Apple smiled. "Darling, it's so good to see you. Is there something you need?"

"Yes," Darling said. Then she stood silently for a few minutes. "No, never mind, I should go."

"That might be for the best," Apple said. She thought the world of Darling (of everyone, really), but she was in the middle of something very important. "Sorry, I didn't mean that. Please stay a little while. It'd be nice to have someone to talk to, and you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to."

Darling was one of the people who had witnessed the kiss. Apple guessed that Darling was nearly ready to break whatever super secret pact had been formed to keep her true love's secret. But Apple would know soon anyway, so she decided not to press the issue. Darling leaned against the counter while she continued to bake. She kept trying to help, and Apple kept insisting that she could manage it on her own. Apple decided the best action was to distract her.

"So, is it fun being the white knight?"

The little smirk Darling gave her was telling enough. She thought she knew Darling very, very well, but she had never realized that Darling was a rebel at heart. Their families spent all their summers together; they had thought Daring was going to be her destined prince after all. Daring and Dexter were always off playing boy's games: slaying imaginary dragons, throwing around a bookball or playing guards and bandits. Darling and her would hold tea parties with the maids and braid each others hair.

When they played house Darling would always play the part of her charming husband, but Apple had always just assumed it was because she was the one destined to be a princess. Darling _did_ make a rather good husband and, as it turned out, a better knight than most.

"I'm sorry, I guess, for always making you play with me when we were kids. You probably would have rather been running around with Daring." Apologizing still felt a little off to Apple, because she very rarely did things she needed to apologize for.

"Oh, please don't worry about that. Trust me, I had more than my fill of their antics during the rest of the year. I'm still a girl you know. It was nice having another lady around and having the chance to do girly things."

For some reason that made the preheating oven feel hotter on Apple's cheeks.

Darling, having not noticed, said, "I actually really treasure all my memories of those summers with you."

Apple White smiled at that. She turned back to her baking, unable and unwilling to say much more than that. She really loved those summers too, but the ever-outgoing Apple got a lump in her throat and couldn't tell Darling that she felt the same way. She was, somehow, too embarrassed. She had no idea why and didn't want to figure it out.

So she forced herself to think about something else, to the thing that had been consuming all her thoughts. Her happy ending. The one she might be living in just a few short hours. It was a nebulous, perfect thing that she had never really considered as anything but a goal. A happy ending. A prince and a castle and a kingdom. Apple never thought much about the prince part; they had always told her it would be Daring, so there was no point. But now it was an unknown and she finally had to consider it.

Who had been there, in the enchanted forest, to kiss her awake?

Well, Daring. But she already knew it wasn't him.

Sparrow Hood too. That wasn't a thought Apple wanted to entertain. It would be just devastating to Ashylnn if it were Hunter. Dexter was more interested in Raven than her. That made her heart hurt a little to think about but she ignored that as jealousy (and she wasn't technically wrong), and jealousy was an emotion for evil queens and wicked stepsisters, not princesses.

She couldn't help it, but that twinge of pain made her think of Poppy, who had also been around after she woke up. Poppy the hairdresser who could make her look like the fairest of them all whenever she wanted. Poppy with her spunk and her raspy voice. Which also made her think about Cerise. Tough and strong Cerise, with an athlete's body and a unique, mysterious air. Which led, offhandedly, to thinking about Cerise's villain, Ramona. Tall, tough, and wild Ramona. Who was, of course, not there, and was also a girl– woman. Ramona was really more of a woman.

Apple glanced over at Darling, who despite her petite size was also really more of a woman than a girl. Darling had been there.

She shook her head. She was supposed to be trying to think about her prince, her one true love. Just because the candidates weren't ideal didn't mean she could just let herself drift off to wonderlandian nonsense thoughts.

While Apple wasn't paying attention, Darling had left and returned with a small bowl of grapes. She offered one to Apple, holding it up to her mouth because her hands were busy. Apple was very careful, but couldn't help but brush her lips against Darling's fingers. The grape was very sweet.

"You okay?" Darling asked.

"I'll be fine."

Fine with Sparrow or Dexter or Hunter? Happily ever after wasn't sounding so happy.

The tray went into the oven. Apple stood beside Darling, talking about nothing in particular and sharing more grapes. It felt comfortable. As they talked, Apple remembered how intelligent and quick-witted the girl was. Soon the conversation faded to silence, but it was peaceful. They didn't fell the need to fill the quiet.

The timer dinged. Darling, having had enough standing around, had already donned a pair of oven mitts. She put the tray of apple crumb cupcakes on the counter.

"They smell delicious," Darling said. "Do you think you could spare one for your most faithful little helper?"

That was what Apple used to call Darling when they played house, because Darling was the sort of fine and chivalrous husband who had to do a fair share of the cooking, so long as she was rewarded with a kiss on the cheek.

On reflex, Apple almost said yes. "Sorry, no. They're– a gift. For Raven."

Apple gathered them into a basket and said a farewell to Darling. The smile on the other girl's face fell away as Apple turned to leave. But then Apple spun on her heel and kissed Darling on the cheek, hoping the girl might appreciate a reminder of the memories she claimed to treasure. Darling stood in stunned silence as Apple returned to her room.

Once Apple entered, she knew that she would be stuck until midnight. She ended up hesitating just outside her door. Soon it will be happily ever after, she thought, my happily ever after with–

True love was true love, Apple decided. Regardless of her current notions of the qualities of the candidates one was her fated prince. She couldn't think of anyone she'd really want, but Apple put faith in the idea that it'd work out with whoever it was, because that's what a happily ever after meant. She stepped through the door, and the magic sealed behind her with a soft pop.

Apple sung and her flock of blue birds began to clean her room while she worked curlers back into her hair. It simply wouldn't do to be messy or disheveled. While she couldn't really avoid having _some_ bedhead, she had to be as positively perfect as possible, just like her mother always said. She put on a fresh coat of her bright red lipstick, and changed dresses– into one of the many copies of the one she wore most days. It was a special occasion, but if she made it too special her one true love may notice it was a trap.

By the time she was done, the birds had also finished and returned to their roosts in the rafters of the room. Everything was spotless and glowed gently in the afternoon light that came in through the window. She leaned on the sill and smiled as the sun began to set. A part of her wished, even though Raven wasn't playing the role of her villain, her roommate could have been there with her. They had spent many evenings leaning out this window, wistfully talking about this or that. Sometimes about their fairy tale destinies. Sometimes just about how fairest the weather was that day.

Apple turned back and looked at her room, perfectly divided. Pretty pink furniture fit for a princess on the one side, dark purple and black on the other. She decided she'd take Raven out shopping to redecorate however she wanted, all expenses paid on the royal credit cards. What she had done hadn't been fair.

She hexted Raven and told her to start spreading the word that she'd accidentally cooked with a bad apple, left in their room as one final present from the Evil Queen. Darling and Ginger would be able to corroborate that story. Raven wasn't very happy with having to blame more wrongs on her mother, but really, it was a lesser sleight than some of the others Apple had done to the girl. Apple decided she'd bake Raven a batch of nonpoisonous cupcakes as an apology and as thanks. Really, Apple could never do as much as she wanted to for Raven.

Apple took a bite from one of the cupcakes and chewed. She could taste the foul poison in it. But she still had time to lay down properly in her bed and assume the pose she always knew she would, with her hands on her stomach and her fingers clasped over a rose from her bedside table.

When she swallowed, the magic started to flow into her veins and she began to count backwards from ten. She got to seven before she was once again dead to the world, caught in a dreamless, emotionless sleep.

Something soft and sweet touched her lips.

It was already deep into the night when Apple cracked her eyes open. She gave a hacking cough, and a glowing pink heart made of smoke drifted above her. It faded and left the room lit only by starlight. Crickets fiddled away outside the window. Apple realized that her true love had waited until everyone was asleep to try to wake her, in order to maintain their secret identity. She hoped it wasn't already past midnight.

Her one true love was by the door, trying desperately to pull it open. The cloaked figure began to pound away.

"It's magically locked," Apple said as she sat up from bed.

With a frantic air, the cloaked figure ran for the window and shot into a diving leap out to freedom. A purple glass-like wall appeared before they could make it out, and they bounced back with a dull thud like someone falling onto a mattress.

"The window is enchanted too, silly," Apple said, as she stood and walked over.

Her one true love curled up on the floor, and Apple was hit with a pang of guilt. She hadn't figured they'd be so desperate to keep their secret that they'd leap headfirst through a window. Apple crouched beside them and carefully flipped away the hood.

Darling Charming's powder blue eyes peered out at her from the darkness, reflecting the moonlight from the window.

"You're my–," Apple started, but couldn't finish, as she sunk to the floor.

"I'm so sorry," Darling said. "When you were asleep in the enchanted forest, you began to cough and choke and I– I just thought something had to be done–,"

Darling kept rambling away, and Apple stayed silent and watched the girl nervously try to apologize for worming her way into Apple's story. Apple carefully examined the way the girl's tanned cheeks flushed, the way her platinum blonde hair turned silver in the pale light, and the way her small, delicate mouth moved as her speech grew more frantic.

Apple's mind drifted miles away to that old summer house, a wood log palace in the forests of Darling's homeland. They met deep, deep in the woods, where Apple had wandered from the straight and narrow path. Realizing she was alone, separated from her parents, lonely Apple sat herself down on a log in the middle of a green clearing and began to gently sing a sad song. Birds began to gather, slowly at first, but soon they had filled all the surrounding branches. Deer and rabbit gathered along the edge, sitting among the flowers and tall grass.

When Apple finished the song and opened her eyes, she jumped because a little girl in a blue frock was sitting with the animals. They all began to wander off, but the girl remained.

"Are you– Alice's daughter?" Apple asked. The girl's hair wasn't so much blonde as nearly white, but she was dressed like the illustrations from her worn out copy of Wonderlandian Fairy Tales.

The girl had laughed, shook her head, and introduced herself as Darling Charming. Darling had lead her back to the summer palace through the woods. She held her hand the whole way.

Apple remembered watching the clouds drift by, laying on her back beside her new best friend, her future sister-in-law. Darling saw swords and dragons in the clouds. Apple saw animals and flowers. They laughed and argued over the shapes by the riverside. Darling always threw her shoes off, and let the tips of her toes dangle into the cool water. It took her weeks to get Apple to do the same. It felt good knowing each would be in the other one's life forever after.

Apple remembered the way Darling sort of just drifted out of her life as they grew older. Darling was the one who left, off to her own world, learning to be a knight and a warrior– a hero. Apple did what everyone thought was proper, and began to hang out more with Daring because that was what a good teenage princess did. But always, while Daring was busy examining himself in his mirrors (which was almost all the time), Apple would worry about Darling, poor Darling, with no fairy tale and no prince to rescue her. But now Apple knew that Darling hadn't needed or wanted a prince because she wanted to be the bravest, fiercest knight in the land.

Darling Charming was Apple's prince charming.

"I never meant to– to invade your story like this," Darling said. "I'm so, so–,"

Apple reached out and pressed a finger against soft pink lips, silencing the other girl. Apple's heart began to beat a frantic rhythm as magic flowed in through the little point of contact. Her blood jumped frantically through her veins, so wildly that the tips of her fingers and toes began to tingle because it was flowing all wrong, but oh so right.

Darling looked her in the eyes and when Apple's lips curved into a smile, hers did too.

A thought struck Apple. These soft, plump things beneath her fingers had kissed her twice, but she had no idea what they felt like. So Apple grabbed Darling's cheeks and slowly brought their lips together.

They felt so perfectly perfect.

There was a flash so bright Apple saw spots even though her eyes were closed.

Apple woke up. Not from slumber, but from the dreamlike haze of ignorance and naivety that she'd been living under. With wide eyes, she examined her life and saw how it really had been.

Her mind unraveled like a ball of yarn falling from inside her head, but instead of flopping into a messy heap on the floor that ball of yarn miraculously bounced straight up back into a ball, rearranged but as tight and neat as it had been before. Because, looking back, she had _acted_ like she had always known. There was nothing different in Apple's heart or mind but self-realization and she knew that nothing about her behavior would change.

She knew _why_ things had never clicked in any romantic way with Daring, and _why_ she had never tried to force it. She knew _why_ she spent all her time with Darling, and _why_ she was never as excited to see her supposed prince charming as she was to be with her childhood friend, her real first love. Apple had spent all her time going after girls she thought were pretty, holding their hands, hugging them, rubbing her cheeks against theirs, and generally edging into their lives without realizing what she had really wanted from them. Apple knew _why_ she would rather spend time with Raven, and she knew _why_ her absentminded daydreams always drifted to Raven, or Poppy, or Cerise, or Ramona, instead of Daring, or Dexter, or Sparrow.

Even though she hadn't known the _why_ , she had still always acted true to herself.

I'm so gay, Apple thought as she pulled away from Darling, and I think I have a very serious thing for bad girls.

Which was a category, Apple decided, that included Darling. A rebel. Sneaking off into the night to hone her skills as a warrior. Secretive, mysterious. A powerful, witty, and willful woman. Apple couldn't have asked for a more perfect princess charming.

Darling was hyperventilating. She grasped for Apple's hands in a very uncoordinated fashion for someone as athletic and physical as her. Apple helped her out, sliding their hands together.

"Deep breaths, Darling," Apple said. "I can't have my princess charming fainting on me. That's what damsels do."

Once she was sufficiently calm, Apple led Darling over to her bed.

They talked about everything.

Darling had fallen in love that day in the woods, while listening to the fairest maiden in all the lands sing to the woodland creature, and had loved Apple ever since. Darling made sure to note that she hadn't learned to be a knight and adventurer because of those feelings, hoping to becoming her prince. She insisted the two were entirely separate. Apple told Darling that she had been in love with her when they were children, and Darling was very dear to her heart.

"But now," Darling said, "you're in love with Raven, aren't you?"

Apple wasn't sure how to answer. "But, but– well, you're my destiny."

Darling stared down out the floor, and nodded. "Being a rebel means fighting destiny, Apple. I know you don't really respect that, but just because I'm your prince doesn't mean you need to be with me. I love you, but I don't want you to want me just because you're obligated by your destiny."

"We're not rebels, Darling. Either of us. Being a hero _is_ your destiny. You were never meant to be a damsel in distress. You were meant to be with me, as a royal, as my princess charming."

Darling took a deep breath. "And your mother? Your kingdom? Being with me will mean having to explain what we are. Destiny or not, choosing me is becoming a rebel."

Apple couldn't stop smiling. This was all daunting and difficult to handle. Telling her mother? Telling _Darling's_ very conservative, very royal mother? But there was an answer she had always held in her heart. She grasped both of Darling's hands again. "What could happen to us? We're destined to be happy forever after, Darling."

"You're skirting the real issue here. The eight-hundred pound black bird in the room."

Apple took a deep breath, and stood from the bed. She wandered over to the window, hesitantly reaching out and finding the magical barrier was gone. She leaned against the sill and rubbed a hand over the smooth stone where Raven usually leaned. "After everything we've been through, after all the time I've spent with her, I can't say I don't have some feelings for Raven."

"I don't want to be in the way of your happiness."

A sweet sentiment, but a dumb one, Apple thought. "Darling, you are all I've ever wanted my whole life. My charming savior. My future champion. My future wife. Darling, you're my happily ever after and if you think I'd choose anyone else, then you don't know me well enough to say that you love me. What do I have to do to prove it?"

"You don't–,"

"I'll poison myself. You'll see. There's no way Raven could wake me."

"Apple, your answer to everything can't be getting poisoned. Even if I can wake you up it can't be good for you."

"You love me, don't you? Why are you fighting this? All this talking is getting in the way. Get over here and kiss me. Kiss me and you'll know I love you and I'll know you love me. Because when you're kissing me I know you're the woman I was meant to be with."

Darling slowly rose from the bed, but Apple couldn't wait and she went to her. Apple was slightly taller than Darling, and had to lean down to reach her lips.

Damsel-in-Distressing taught a very formal form of kissing one's prince charming. There was no practicing it during class, but they had covered the theory. His arms would go around you, so you kept yours in the center. One leg would pull back like you were being literally swept off your feet. Then you splay your fingers over his broad, muscular chest.

Except this was Darling, and Darling was a woman, so Apple's hands ended up just above her breasts, low enough to start to feel their softness.

It made Darling hum into their kiss, and the whole experience felt so nice to Apple she couldn't help but lower her hands to get a proper feel of her one true love in her palms.

Darling pulled away from the kiss. Her voice, already breathy and high, reached a new pitch as she tried to speak. "Apple?"

A heat bloomed in Apple, one that she had never felt before because it was always repressed by the cool haze she had used to mask her feelings from herself. It made her breathing quick and shallow. She closed her eyes and closed herself to all sensation but the feel of Darling's soft body beneath her fingers and the smell of citrus tones in her perfume.

Apple knew exactly what to give Darling to show her that she would never love another.

The future Snow White was meant to be as pure as freshly fallen snow. The reality of being alive in the era of the mirrornet, and being a teenager, made it impossible for that to be true. Even Apple wasn't ignorant of _it_. She had looked into _it_ the previous year, somehow convincing herself it was an entirely academic endeavor (which, looking back, wouldn't have required watching as many videos as she had), after hearing that Ramona got sent to reform school for doing _it_ behind the bleachers with another girl. She had been curious as to what the _it_ was that a villain did behind the bleachers with another girl.

Seriously, how the hex didn't I realize, Apple thought briefly.

Apple took Darling by the shoulders and pushed her back until she ended up seated on the edge of Apple's bed. Darling was staring at the floor, unsure of everything at this point, and Apple wanted her one true love to be very sure of their future together. Apple slipped off the crop jacket that usually covered her shoulders.

With a deep breath, Apple turned. "Zipper," she said.

"Apple, what are we doing?"

"Unzip me, Darling."

With shaking hands, Darling did as she was told. Her fingers moved slowly, one boldly running over what had already been opened, brushing the sliver of pale skin the other was exposing.

Apple pulled the dress down over her hips and let it fall, a fluff of red fabric on the floor. She turned and faced Darling, whose eyes were sweeping her up and down with her mouth hanging open. Apple started to feel a little nervous at the reality of the situation. She was exposed. Standing in front of the woman meant to be her one true love in nothing but her bra and stockings made Apple suddenly not feel like the fairest of them all. She shrank under the scrutiny. It had seemed like such a good idea.

Darling took a deep breath and averted her eyes, "Apple, it seems like you're rushing things. You don't have to prove anything to me."

"Oh, you're such a gentlewoman," Apple said. Was I trying, she asked herself, to prove something? That idea seemed far away, like a story she had dreamed fading from her memory. Now there was nothing but her and Darling and too much clothing between them.

Darling's hesitance made Apple's melt away. Apple got close to Darling, straddling the girl but hovering a good distance from her body, and began to ease off the metal plates strapped to the shoulders of her dress.

"Apple, maybe we shouldn't–," Darling started, but she stopped. Her eyes had shut, and she was taking deep, slow breaths through her nose. Her head drooped down, closer to Apple's neck, and her body began to shiver.

The armor made a dull thud as it hit the wooden floor of the room. Apple's fingers roamed Darling's back until she loosed the pale blue dress. When it began to hang off of her, Darling startled and quickly moved her hands to keep herself covered. "Apple, hold on."

Apple stopped, staring into Darling's eyes. The girl's cheeks were flushed, and Apple could tell what she really wanted.

"Are you sure we shouldn't, you know, take things slower? If you really want your happily ever after, then you're meant to be my wife, and we–," Darling hesitated. Apple knew she didn't like or mean what she was saying. "We could wait, if we have forever after."

"Stop, Darling, stop thinking you need to protect me from yourself." Apple stepped back. "Whether it's tonight, tomorrow, next week, or next year, whenever it happens, all of this," Apple said, running her hands over her own body, "will belong to you."

Apple had meant the gesture to be symbolic, but the moment she touched her own skin, she felt a pulsing energy in her body. Her body, flesh that had been inert and cool her whole life, was heated and alive. She'd never felt so connected with herself– so solid and real and physical. Her left hand began to massage her own breast and he other dipped down, following the trail of heat down to her womanhood. She was damp through what little clothing she had left. Her own fingers toyed with herself for the first time. She squirmed at the new sensations darting through her body.

It wasn't enough. "Do you really want to wait?" Apple whispered, the rasp of her voice giving away her desperation. She reached behind her back, unhooking her bra and letting it fall from her shoulders.

Darling gaped at the show Apple was giving her. She stood, let her own dress join Apple's on the ground, and she kicked them both away. They were on each other in an instant, pulling into a single entity that writhed and kissed and felt as one. Apple had only just learned to be a woman in sync with her own body, and now she felt what it was like to be one with another. In that messy tangle Apple fully bared Darling, and then shoved the girl back onto her bed. Darling opened her legs, revealing everything.

Apple approached, slow, sure in her step, and with a quivering hand began to play with Darling. Not with, Apple thought as she found her rhythm. Apple was playing Darling like an instrument. Every motion made Darling sing a new note or move and dance in a new way.

Through her fingers– through that place they were connected– Apple was in control of Darling. One certain rhythm made the lean muscles of Darling's abdomen roll like waves. Another made her toes curl. If Apple slapped a hand down on her hip, it made Darling cry out Apple's name in her high breathy voice. If Apple pressed a kiss to her inner thigh, Darling would make a low and deep moan.

Apple mixed those notes together, slow at first, and then more and more rapid as she got comfortable with the feeling of Darling pulsing around her fingers, more confident of which motions made the prettiest music.

The movement of Darling's body, the slight but well muscled form shuddering and twitching at her touch, left Apple enraptured. There was no longer anything beyond this moment, no happily ever after to loom over them, no parents, no rules, no destinies, just her hands and a body for her to bring pleasure to– a lover to satisfy. There was only an instrument to play at a steadily quickening rhythm.

Apple found the button that made the high note. She pressed her thumb against it and rolled until Darling cried out into the night. The beat of Darling's heart and the electricity in her muscles transmitted through her womanhood, and Apple could feel every bit of it.

In a trance, Apple licked Darling's slick moisture off of her fingers and crawled up the bed. Darling was dazed and could barely react when Apple's tongue made her taste herself.

This time true love's kiss made Darling awaken, and she grasped at Apple's back, pulling her close and pressing the air out from between them.

Suddenly Apple was shoved onto her back. Her stockings and panties were twisted against her skin as hands grasped at them, but they weren't removed. Darling tore them right down the center, exposing Apple's dripping sex. She hadn't realized how strong Darling was, and soon she felt hands on her thighs, pulling her closer and lifting her lower half off the mattress. She was left balancing precariously on the back of her head and neck, supported by a pair of thin but powerful arms around her stomach. Darling had raised Apple's pure-as-snow womanhood up towards her face. The feel of cool night air alternated with Darling's warm breath, and Apple shuddered.

Apple was a little afraid of what was about to happen, and knew Darling would see it when she looked down at her face. Her protector, her knight, her one true love, peered at her through her legs didn't say anything to reassure her. She just smirked before pressing her tongue into Apple's entrance.

Apple smiled. She wouldn't have liked it any other way.

The new feelings overloaded her senses. Her toes began to tingle, from both Darling's touch and a lack of blood, and her eyes shut on their own. Darling flicked and teased at her, sometimes pulling out to kiss her thighs, sometimes making a tantalizing little ring just beyond her most sensitive places, sometimes reaching deep inside of her in a way nothing ever had before. Soon there was nothing but the pleasure Darling was giving her. Earlier Apple had gone from being a mind in a body to being a mind one with her body, but as a victim to Darling's warm tongue she became nothing but limp, sensitive flesh.

Her legs ceased twitching and her muscles relaxed until the only thing keeping her upright but upside down was Darling. She could feel an incredible heat everywhere she was in contact with her love: the soft round of breasts pressed to her lower back, the strong arms that had slipped up to her waist, and most of all the tongue that danced inside of her.

Darling began to more eagerly devour her, and soon Apple could feel something building. Something deep and powerful took control of her body, making it tense and squirm on its own. She could feel herself tightening around Darling, until Darling slid out, severing the connection for barely a moment before she pressed a hard and firm kiss to Apple's most sensitive flesh. That burning energy burst and her legs, her abs, her arms, her whole body, rolled with pleasurable waves.

When the pleasure finally faded, Apple's mind came back to her body and she became aware of her surroundings. She was already laying on her back, with Darling hovering above her.

"Was that too much?"

"It was– perfect," Apple said. She tried to lean up, but found herself too depleted to even manage that. "Get down here and kiss me."

Darling did as she was asked, letting her bare body lay against Apple's as she pressed kisses all over Apple's face. Darling was much fitter than Apple, and had the energy to get Apple properly flipped around and tucked beneath the blanket before they both drifted off to exhausted, peaceful slumber.

Apple woke first the next morning, sore in all the right ways. The world was crisp and the morning light coming through the open window made her eyes ache. She scooted towards Darling and kissed the other girl awake. Darling blinked lazily and smiled for a moment when she realized where she was, but soon it faded. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"You have to stop me asking that," Apple said, stretching languidly out of the covers. Her body was exposed and Darling went flush again, no doubt remembering the night before. "I'm your princess, but I'm not as delicate as you seem to think I am. It's the first day of happily ever after my Darling and I feel, well, happy."

She felt no need to be shy, after all, they were literally literary soulmates.

"Why didn't you just tell me? You knew I was gay," Apple said, hiding her internal grumbling that _she_ hadn't even realized it herself.

"A little sword fight or a dragon here or there is nothing compared to admitting how I feel. I was scared," Darling said hesitantly, "that you wouldn't want me. We both know it's going to be hard having a princess charming. Plus I know how you feel about Raven."

Apple reached out and entwined their fingers. Darling's hand wasn't smooth and delicate, like Raven's, they were thin and small with wiry strength and callouses. Nothing had ever felt as right to the touch as her one true love's hand. The firm grip reminded her of how secure and safe she felt that day, all those years ago, when Darling took her hand and lead her out of the lonely forest. That was the day she had fallen in love with Darling.

Apple knew that she'd never regret what she had done or who she had chosen, because happily ever after wasn't just an abstract idea anymore. Happily ever after was the woman laying in the bed beside her. It was doing what they'd done the night before, every night. It was loving Darling, cherishing her, and building a life together.

Sure they'd have rough patches. They'd disagree and they'd fight. They would have to struggle telling their parents they were going to be together. They would have to tell their kingdom there would be two queens. But it would work out. They'd be happy, in the end, because Apple was confident in her destiny.

"Darling Charming, I'll love you and only you, forever after. Please don't doubt that."

Darling finally smiled again. "I love you too, Apple White, forever after."

* * *

Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed this! This is the first lemon scene I've written, so I would really appreciate reviews and feedback.


	2. Dancing Through the Night

Dancing Through the Night, the Story of Ramona Badwolf and Justine Dancer

Ramona sat in the waiting area outside the headmaster's office and pretended to read something on her mirrorphone. Her sharp ears could pick up the sound of the Grimm Brothers' argument through the door.

Giles was insisting that the story of Snow White had been completed. Darling Charming had woken Apple White up in the enchanted forest with true love's kiss. Raven Queen was a magic mirror. The O'Hair twins, Ashylnn, Maddie, and the three forest pixies were dwarves. It sounded like a lot of nonsense to Ramona.

But then Milton kept arguing that Daring Charming must be the Apple White's prince, and that when Raven Queen finally accepts her role they would be able to perform the story.

Ramona very vividly remembered the second time she ever talked to Apple White. She'd tried to give the girl a large berth when they crossed paths in an empty hall, but Apple cut straight through it and clutched both of Ramona's hands in the princess-y way she always did. "Oh, look at you Ramona," she said.

Ramona remembered the words perfectly, because it was such a strange moment.

Apple then did exactly what she said; she slowly and steadily raked her eyes over Ramona from toe to head. "So tough and strong and bad. Oh yes, you're such a bad, bad girl." Apple sighed. "If only Raven could be more like you."

Apple having a prince instead of princess in her happily ever after was even more nonsensical than four pretty girls counting as dwarves.

Eventually Giles gave up and left. He looked even more frazzled than usual from trying to get new ideas through his brother's thick skull. A few moments later the headmaster called her into the office.

"Miss Badwolf. It has been brought to my attention that several bottles of wine have gone missing from the kitchen. After a thorough investigation, we have determined that it must have been you. We've found several strands of your hair at the scene."

Ramona hadn't stolen any wine. She argued her case but the headmaster wouldn't listen to any excuses, alibis, or the truth. This wasn't a trial, and Ramona knew that. Princes and princesses got hearings to argue their innocence; villains were just sent to detention, or worse. Ramona wasn't much of a thinker but she had a sharp enough nose to recognize bullshit when she could smell it. The villains were told they _had_ to break the rules, but were still punished when they did.

Try to do good? One time Apple had forgotten a book in her room. After glancing around the classroom and spotting the fastest girl in the school, she batted her eyelashes. Ramona had trouble resisting pretty eyes and long eyelashes. Plus she was certain Apple, and a few other princesses, had some sort of magical control over wildlife. Why not, Ramona had thought, it'll only take me a few seconds. Milton Grimm gave her a detention for being helpful. Ramona got punished, for anything, everything, and nothing.

There was a growing movement of royal villains who cried out at what they called 'systemic bullying.' Ramona had been asked to join them, but she didn't care about things like that– philosophy or sociology or whatever the hell they called it. She decided she would rather spend her free time actually enjoying life. A bunch of angry high school students weren't going to change anything anyway. There were too many important people that 'held the utmost respect for Milton Grimm.' He was, after all, perfectly nice to future kings and queens.

"I'm afraid we'll have no choice but to return you to the Dark Forest Reform School."

"Fuck that," Ramona growled. "I'm innocent."

"Ramona, you really set a fine example for villains. With all this rebel nonsense going around, It'll be a shame we won't have you to show the younger students how to behave. I'm very proud of what you've become."

Grimm told her it would be a week before the paperwork was finalized and if she was really innocent, which he said with a scoff, that he would need proof before then. Otherwise it would be back to the dark forest. Back to lonely nights sleeping beneath the stars because the dirt was more comfortable to the beds in the repurposed dungeon cells they called dorm rooms. Back to hunting her own meals because she didn't want to eat the slime and mushrooms the trolls and swamp creatures ate. Back to missing her sister and her father and wondering the next time she'd be able to run with her pack.

Ramona started by visiting the crime scene in the pantry. The only clear scents were the most recent, Milton Grimm and Miss Trollsworth. The others were too old and too numerous for her track, so no help at all.

There were at least several obvious suspects. She found Blondie Locks near the front of the school, where the reporter was stalking Darling and Apple to get a scoop on what was going on between them. Ramona offered an exchange of information but Blondie had nothing to tell her about the alcohol. When she found Sparrow Hood, a quick growl made him cower at her feet and promise he hadn't stolen it. Briar didn't need to be pressed for answers; she calmly told Ramona that she hadn't thrown any parties wild enough for booze, and if she had Ramona would have definitely received an invite.

Ramona decided to take a break. She wasn't used to being emotionally exhausted and, not recognizing it, figured she was just unusually tired. One of Ramona's favorite spots to nap on campus was at the base of old oak tree on a hill a little ways off the path to the dark forest. She'd carved her name into the bark with her nails to claim it as her own. In the morning the sun hit the grass hard, drying the morning dew and keeping it warm, and in the afternoon, it was shady and cool. The breeze from the paths carried up and when Cerise went into the forest Ramona would always catch her scent and be able to join her.

There was another perk of the spot; it could be seen from the hall outside the school's dance studio. Justine had noticed Ramona lounging restlessly and sat on the grass beside her.

Headmaster Grimm had sent Ramona to reform school the first time for fooling around with Kitty behind the bleachers during a bookball game. The truth ended up mixed in with a lot of other rumors, but when she had returned Ramona expected to continue living alone. Not only was she a villain, but now there were whispers she was a lesbian villain. She was surprised to find out that Justine Dancer, whom Ramona had never even heard of, had volunteered to live with her.

Luckily the living situation suited Ramona well. Some roommates were bound at the hip, like Raven and Apple. They'd always extend invitations to the other for anything and everything, and ended up without much alone time. Then there were roommates like Faybelle and Bunny, who had set rules for the room and then never spoke again.

Justine and Ramona fell somewhere in between those extremes. They each gave the other a little support, but when Ramona wanted to wander the forest or Justine just wanted to practice her dancing in solitude, they would give the other space. It had grown into a easy and reliable friendship. It was low-maintenance enough to overcome the pricklier parts of Ramona's personality.

"What's the matter?" Justine asked.

"Might get sent back to reform school."

"You uh, get caught chasing cats again?"

Ramona explained that she hadn't done anything. Justine just nodded, knowing that most of the fear surrounding Ramona was just reputation and expectation. She didn't lean into it the way Faybelle did, or fight it like Raven. Ramona was usually more bark than bite.

"Roll over," Justine said.

"Not this again."

"Yes, this again." Justine put her hands on her hips, and gave her a stern look. "Come on miss big bad wolf. You know it'll make you feel better."

Ramona gave in and did as she was told. Justine cracked her knuckles and began to give her a back massage. It was not gentle, at all. Justine was a dancer, and the massages she gave were practical and mechanical. They kept muscles loose and flexible, but weren't really relaxing. Ramona just liked having her back rubbed. She refused to think of it as being pet.

Justine's support got Ramona's blood pumping again, but the investigation didn't progress any more that night, or the following morning. As the day crept by, a smell started to invade Ramona's nose. It was the pungent stench of a swamp seeping out of her memories. She wasn't used to being tense, or afraid. Like most wolves and dogs, anxiety and fear made her more aggressive. That only made the other students more afraid of her.

Cerise recognized what Ramona was really feeling. "Need any help?" she offered when they finally got a moment alone.

Ramona eyed the worried shift of Cerise's eyes.

When they were children they would often sneak out of their homes and meet in the woods. Once, during a race, Cerise accidently bumped into Ramona and sent her tumbling to into a root. Ramona had sprained her ankle and skinned her knee, but Cerise was the only one who cried on their way back. Cerise had avoided her for a week afterwards.

Ramona knew her sister well enough. She couldn't ask Cerise for help. If she did, and they failed, Cerise would be able to blame herself for splitting up their family. Ramona loved her sister too much to allow that.

"Don't worry your pretty little hood. I'm a lone wolf."

"Ugh. I don't know why I even bother."

Ramona shrugged, then tucked her hands across her chest. "Wouldn't mind going for a run later, though."

"Well why don't you go by yourself? You're a lone wolf, aren't you?" Cerise grumbled and growled as she stalked off.

Ramona took a slow deep breath and nodded to herself.

That night, a constant slow pounding sound woke Ramona up. She threw the door open and found a tired and grumpy Faybelle with a fist still raised in the air.

"The hell do you want?"

"Fuck if I know," Faybelle said.

Ramona examined the future dark fairy closely. Through her drooping lids, Faybelle's eyes glowed yellow, and her voice was flatter than usual. The oddest thing was that she didn't smell like Faybelle; she smelled like musty paper and ink.

"I stole this. I have to give it you, or I won't be able to go to sleep."

She handed Ramona a mass of folded black cloth and left without another word. When she unfolded it, she realized it was the magic cloak that Raven used to turn near invisible at night. Ramona had smelled Raven using it several times, but her sharper than normal nightvision still couldn't pick up more than an odd shadow.

Ramona started to return to bed, but she noticed that Justine's bed was empty. The bedspread was rustled and open, and her usual nightdress was folded neatly on nightstand. She changed out of her pajamas, threw the cloak over her shoulders, caught the trail of her roommate's perfume, and followed it out into the night.

The moon was full and bright, a taskmaster that whipped Ramona into a frenzy with harsh silver beams the moment she got outside. She released a sharp, high howl into the air and took off sprinting. She cut straight through the brush and bramble of the enchanted forest, leaping over fallen logs and diving beneath low hanging branches.

She slowed as she came to a clearing and heard the din of music and chatter. The circle of trees were wrapped with vines whose flowers glowed gold, gently illuminating the short grass. A little over two dozen people crowded the center, dancing to songs pumping from a boombox that had been wedged into the branches of one of the trees.

Ramona secured the cloak so it sat more tightly on her shoulders and began to circle around the clearing. The partygoers were older; still what Ramona would call young adults, but not teenagers. There were half empty bottles lining the edge of the clearing, sitting on every flat surface. Around the back end, there was a table loaded with beer and bottles of harder alcohol.

Justine was talking to someone who, from smell and appearance, must have been her sister. Ramona took a closer look around the party and realized the women were Justine's eleven older sisters.

"Got the cover charge?" the sister asked.

Justine held out a bottle of wine. It was meant for cooking, but her older sister took it anyway. Ramona figured it was mostly symbolic; there was enough liquor on the table for a week of parties.

"Good job. I know this must have been tough on you, but we all had to do it when we were your age. Now go enjoy yourself."

Justine was swept into the music and the party. Justine often told Ramona that Duchess was the best ballet dancer in the school, but Ramona was certain that the prissy goose couldn't move the way Justine did. Her body rolled and wiggled to the quick modern beat. Her dark skin, sweat slick, shined in the low light. The music had a pulse and Justine wasn't just synced with it, she was part of it. A physical form for the sound.

Through the night, Justine's sisters threw boy after boy her way, and each was a scarecrow on the dancefloor compared to her. Ramona knew they were probably fine dancers, but anyone would look comically stiff compared to Justine. She'd dance, and they'd tire, and they'd give up.

Ramona took a few pictures on her mirrorphone and a couple of short recordings. She didn't say anything about it the next day, choosing instead to go off into the woods by herself and roaming for miles; she skirted the edge of the territory she had eked out in the dark forest. When night fell she followed Justine to the party again.

Justine didn't drink any of the alcohol, and she was indifferent to the attention of the boys. She stopped to talk to her sisters every chance she could, and It was only during those moments that she looked genuinely happy. They were the twelve dancing princesses being what they were meant to be.

The third night there was a new boy. He wore a tight and formal red jacket with gold buttons and cuffs that matched well with Justine's yellow dress and was, surprisingly, a perfect match for Justine's skills as a dancer.

The playlist that night was slower and sweeter, and the sisters all kept glancing their way and giggling into their hands as the two rocked together through the night. It was obvious to everyone watching that the way they moved together was perfect. He was a perfect dancing prince for a perfect dancing princess. It would have been absolutely perfect if Justine didn't look even more uncomfortable than she had with any of the other boys. When he extended an elbow for Justine to take so that they could walk through the woods, Justine's sisters eagerly urged her to go.

Ramona followed close behind as the future couple chatted and strolled away into the forest. There was just something off, and even Ramona couldn't figure out what. She kept to the shadows, and didn't know why she was following or why she was so unhappy.

The boy sat Justine down on a old hearty log that had tipped by a lightning strike. Fireflies whizzed around their feet, and the mushrooms sprouting on the log glowed a gentle pale green.

Justine wasn't being warm, or open, or really anything but distant. The boy was apparently much better at dancing than he was at reading moods and must have mistaken her disinterest for shyness. He leaned to kiss her and was rejected, and he leaned in again, and again, and again, each time with a little more force that was met with a more insistent refusal.

Ramona ground her fangs into her lips a little harder with each attempt the boy made. Something bubbled low and deep in her chest, something animalistic and dark. Justine was _her_ emotional support. Justine was a member of _her_ pack. Justine was supposed to be _hers_.

Ramona released that dark feeling as a howl that pierced the night air, and a few other wolves answered from the other side of the forest. Ramona recognized Carmine and Cerise in the chorus of voices.

The boy stopped and peered out through the trees. Ramona knew he could see her glowing amber eyes in the darkness. He sprung away, sprinting frantically back towards the clearing and the party and the safety of a group, and left his date alone and trembling.

Justine didn't settle until she saw Ramona step out from the darkness. "Thank you," she eventually managed to say.

Face to face with Justine, Ramona swallowed the rest of the possessiveness that hadn't been released in her howl. "Don't sweat it. I'll walk you back."

Justine nodded but didn't move. "There's um– something I want to tell you."

There was a moment of silence that stretched into a minute of silence. "I'm going. If you've got something to say, say it walking."

Justine followed her, quietly at first, but eventually she opened up. She talked about how much she loves her sisters, and that because there was such a large gap in their ages they never got to spend that much time together. Now that she was old enough and her destiny was secure, she could join their secret parties.

Which was why she had stolen the wine.

Then she talked about how her sisters were always trying to set her up with boys. The twelve dancing princesses, after all, weren't exactly pure maidens like some of the other fairy tales. Ramona had never read the story but knew from one of Duchess's jealous rants that they were just on the borderline of being villains. Still, Ramona couldn't even imagine trying to push a boy onto Cerise. She would sooner rip out a wannabe suitor's throat.

By the time Justine seemed to finish talking, they were back in their room. Ramona was already in the process of changing when Justine froze up and took a deep breath.

"Really, he wasn't a bad guy," she said. "But I– I'm actually like you."

"Huh?"

"I'm uh– I chase cats too."

"Oh. Oh! Okay."

Justine crossed the room and the orange peel in her perfume got stronger. The scent reminded Ramona of all those times she'd awoken beneath her favorite tree with Justine smiling down at her, the afternoon light spilling through her dark curls like they were the canopy of a forest. Her heavy, gold-shaded eyelids were always drawn low to half hide the dark emerald irises.

Ramona realized she thought Justine was fucking gorgeous and was now standing less than a foot away from her.

"Is that all?"

Ramona shrugged. "How could I disapprove."

"Of course you wouldn't. That wasn't why I was too nervous to tell you."

Justine crept closer and closer. She reached her hands out. Ramona had frozen with her shirt half off, tangled over her arms, and Justine ran her fingers gently along the muscles of Ramona's bare shoulders.

"This is a bad idea," Ramona said.

"I can still feel his hands on me," Justine said. "I think I'd sleep better– with you."

"I can see the way you're looking at me. We won't get much sleep."

Justine smiled. "You're damn right we won't."

Ramona was so surprised she didn't react when Justine began to force kiss after kiss on her. Ramona was certain she knew why this was happening: Justine needed to feel like the one in control. That knowledge didn't sit quite right, but the kisses felt perfect and Ramona couldn't fight it.

Justine suddenly gave her a shove that sent Ramona tumbling onto her bed. Justine had a dancer's body, and a modern dancer's fitness, and a ballet dancer's power. She flipped Ramona over, who was still too stunned to put up a fight if she had even wanted to, so that her stomach was resting on the edge of the bed and her legs were sprawled out down to the floor.

Justine hiked Ramona's skirt up, and tugged down her leggings just enough to make it hard for her to spread her legs. Ramona felt a single nail draw up the exposed flesh of her ass, then down along her lower lips.

Things had gone too far and Ramona was about to say something to stop it, but Justine dropped her weight down onto Ramona's back. She brushed away the hair from Ramona's ear and whispered, "I've wanted to do this for so long."

Ramona squeezed her eyes tightly. "How long?"

"Since I found out you were looking after me while I was sleepwalking. Everyone else may think you're a villain, but you'll always be my hero. Can I?"

After a long pause, Ramona said yes.

Justine slid a hand under Ramona, with a quick thrust entered her, and made her cry out a second yes. Just like with her massages, it was not gentle, at all. With each upward thrust Justine ground her hips, forcing herself deeper into Ramona.

It felt much much better than the massages ever did. When she was with Kitty and the other wolf girls at the reform school, she was never on the receiving end. She was just too big and bad and dominant.

Justine sat up and used her free hand to grip the back of Ramona's neck.. She wasn't the strongest girl, but she had perfect control of her body. The motion of every one of her muscles was focused and powerful, like a ballet dancer forcing herself into the air from the tiny tip of her foot, except this power was all driven into Ramona's most sensitive places. The bed scraped a little across the floor with each thrust. And, of course, Justine's sense of rhythm was perfect.

Ramona buried her face into the tangled fabric of shirt that still bound her arms to keep from crying out. She was enjoying it, but she didn't want to give Justine the satisfaction of knowing how much. But with each moment it became harder and harder and harder. She bit hard, shredding the fabric and clamping down onto her forearm.

The pain made a hot, condensed feral instinct begin to fill her veins. It exerted so, so much pressure, and Ramona felt full to the point of bursting.

Justine released her neck, knotted her fingers into Ramona's thick mane of hair, and tugged in perfect time with the hardest thrust yet.

Ramona tasted blood and her whole body convulsed with a wild jerk. She was, for a moment, nothing but the animal she tried so hard not to be.

Ramona knew there was no way Justine hadn't heard the grunt, or the felt the wave of sudden contraction through her muscles. The girl who had mounted her collapsed down onto Ramona's back, and began to trace up to her neck with a series of gentle kisses.

"I love you," Justine said.

Ramona didn't say anything. She just turned her head and gave Justine a gentle kiss on the lips. Both kept their eyes firmly closed, and didn't notice the little spark of yellow light.

* * *

When the time came, Ramona accepted her punishment without argument. She spent her final days locked in her room with Justine, skipping class and alternating between making love and long talks about everything but the reason Ramona was being expelled. But eventually the rumor mill caught wind of the truth. Justine found out that it was her fault from Blondie's mirrorcast.

From then on, they did nothing but argue. Justine insisted that she wouldn't be punished as harshly if she confessed. Ramona reminded her that if Grimm found out, there was no way she would get to see her sisters until after she graduated. Justine usually ended up crying, and Ramona steeled herself against her tears and reminded herself she was making the right decision. Ramona was going to protect her new girlfriend from the loneliness she herself understood all too well.

Justine even snuck out and tried to tell the headmaster about the parties. He didn't accept the confession. He was convinced that she was just trying to cover for Ramona. There was no evidence left; during one of the fights Ramona made a big show of deleting every last video and photo on her mirrorphone.

They hadn't stopped fighting, and Ramona was never able to tell Justine when she was leaving. She didn't want a big goodbye, especially an unhappy one. One morning she was just gone.

Someone unexpected approached her while she was on her way out of the school. Giles Grimm handed her a book and told her to read the marked story. "Remember, eventually the stories will always end they way they're meant to. Things will be fine, Miss Badwolf."

She set off into the woods all by herself without a single farewell, having ignored the messages she had gotten from Cerise and Faybelle. Halfway through the dark forest, Ramona stretched out in the tangled roots of an old oak tree. When the boringness of reading sounded better than the boringness of doing nothing, she cracked open the book to the dog eared page.

It was Justine's story: "The Shoes That Were Danced to Pieces." Ramona read it for the first time. By the end, her lips were securely tugged into a smirk.


End file.
